Watching My Grandfather’s Holocaust Testimony for the First Time
Reflections and takeaways from forgotten footage
My grandfather is a holocaust survivor. He passed away when I was seventeen. We both lived in South Florida, meaning I saw him often as a child.
Yet he developed dementia when I was in middle school. I try to focus on my early memories of him; back when he was jovial, fit, and sarcastic. I fondly recall his love of ice skating, menthol candies, and pet parakeets.
I don’t recall him telling me stories of his time in concentration camps, though I’ve heard several stories secondhand from my father. I was aware of a testimony he gave to the USC Shoah Foundation, a massive Holocaust documentation project. The knowledge of that footage sat dusty at the back of my mind… Until now.
Blame it on Pandemic-induced introspection, but I’ve been thinking of my family and my Jewish identity recently. I had a sudden yearning to watch my grandfather’s memoir.
With a quick Google search, I found a landing page for his video testimony. I requested access from USC and received a link several hours later. There it was: 1.5 hours of footage of my grandfather recounting his childhood during WWII. Here’s what I learned:
Everyone processes trauma differently
My grandpa recounted his story in a matter-of-fact tone. He spoke of starvation, beatings, and human incinerators in a straightforward manner. He appeared to have compartmentalized his trauma. He acknowledged the horror of experiencing the Holocaust, but he didn’t get emotional.
He even sprinkled in humor throughout the video. When asked about a death march between Gusen and Dachau, two concentration camps, he recalled eating caterpillars at night. “They tasted just like seafood, shrimp!”
The interviewer asked mostly factual questions. Who were his parents? When was he liberated? How did he end up in America? Yet occasional introspective questions would transport my grandfather back to 1943, a death-ridden time that he could never fully escape. One question, in particular, caught my grandfather off guard.
“What is the statement you would like to make to the world about what happened to you?”
My grandfather fell silent. His eyes glistened as he stared deeply into the camera. In a shaky voice, he responded,
“There should be no more war… Because innocent people pay the price.”
I think of how mental health is becoming less stigmatized. Therapy is readily available and often discussed. But my grandfather grew up in a different era. The expectation was to move on from your trauma. Was he ever allowed to grieve and process his experience as a Holocaust survivor?
You can’t bring someone back to life, but video helps
My most recent and vivid memories of my grandfather are from a nursing home. From 2010 onward, his health deteriorated.
Yet his holocaust testimony was shot in 1996. He is sitting in his living room, healthy, witty, and thoughtful. It felt like he was still living in Miami and I could pay him a visit any afternoon.
After watching this footage, it is easier to anchor to my early memories of him, rather than my memories of his sickness. This is how he’d want to be remembered.
There is no substitute for a firsthand account
Details are lost or misinterpreted in secondhand accounts. My grandfather’s testimony occasionally differed from the version my father told.
For example, my father stated that my grandfather and his sister were forced into separate lines upon arriving at Buchenwald. Yet my grandfather stated that the siblings were transported in different cattle cars. He never saw his sister after arriving at the concentration camp.
I had never learned about my grandfather’s childhood pre-WWII; his parents owned a confectionary store. I had also never learned about his time in Europe post-liberation. He was smuggled into Allied-occupied Germany, which allowed him to eventually immigrate to the US.
I didn’t know what the letters above and below his concentration camp tattoo signified. I learned that they stand for Mauthausen, one of several concentration camps he spent time at. His video helped answer these questions and restore a sense of connection.
I’ve written before about the importance of recording your family’s testimony. I’m so grateful that I’ll be able to share footage of my grandfather’s story with future generations.
Yom Hashoah. Never Forget.
